


Shepherd of Fire

by wewillalwaysenduphere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All Human, Almost Famous References, And has an amazing voice, Avenged Sevenfold Lyrics, Cas is pining, Concerts, Dirty Talk, Fans, Gabriel taking care of Cas, Groupie Castiel, M/M, Penny Lane References, Rockstar AU, Rockstar Sam Winchester, Sam is a God, The Archangels are Brothers, chuck is their father, no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when he had gone from sweet and innocent to rebellious and addicted to punk rock.</p><p>But what he knew was that Sam Winchester was the man who ruined him, who made Castiel realize that he was not, not even the slightest, tiniest bit straight. The first time his fifteen-year-old self heard this man sing, voice raspy and raw and dripping with sex appeal he knew he would be sucking cock for the rest of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shepherd of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: Wincest or Sastiel Rockstar/Groupie AU. Lyrics "if I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?" Please and thank you <3  
> (for @samanddeaninpanties)
> 
> It took me some time, but here we go :)
> 
> Lyrics are taken from Avenged Sevenfold, order of songs as following – Shepherd of Fire, Gunslinger, Acid Rain, Dear God  
> (Some slightly adjusted, I’m instead of it’s in Shepherd of Fire and him instead of her in Dear God)  
> The title is another A7X song :D
> 
> Sam is the rockstar and Castiel the groupie, and I originally planned this as nothing more but a rock aesthetic with some smut as the cherry on top...but then I went and got feelings all over it. *sigh*
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Castiel couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when he had gone from sweet and innocent to rebellious and addicted to punk rock. Unnecessary to say, his father Chuck was less than pleased. Then again, he was the youngest son and Michael was perfect enough for all of them.

His life changed fundamentally once he discovered the group _Hunters.  
_ The band consisted of their lead singer Sam Winchester, his brother Dean as lead guitarist, their friend Bobby who was ten years older , one of the best drummers currently out there and Benny, their bass player. What set them apart from most other bands were that they stayed true to rock in a time more and more bands used electronic vibes to become more and more mainstream, and Sam Winchester’s unique, recognizable voice.

Sam Winchester was the man who made Castiel realize that he was not, not even the slightest, tiniest bit straight. The first time his fifteen-year-old self heard this man sing, voice raspy and raw and dripping with sex appeal he knew he would be sucking cock for the rest of his life.

His family took it surprisingly well, and he never quite lost his crush on Sam Winchester – but it was the kind of crush you have on someone unattainable, on a rock star, on a guy that was openly gay and photographed with all the pretty little things he picked up along the way - desperately wishing to be one of them one day. Just one night with Sam fucking Winchester would change Castiel’s life, he knew that.

He went to his first concert when he was sixteen. His older brother Lucifer had to come with him to set his parents at ease, and he was wearing an old leather jacket and black jeans. Unsurprisingly the girls were all over Lucifer and his snake bites. Some even tried to flirt with Castiel, but he couldn’t care less. Once the venue really started filling up, he dragged Lucifer to the front, and Lucifer followed willingly, he was more into metal, but while the Hunters' last album was more punk than anything else, their earlier records included hard rock and nu metal as well – which was the main reason Lucifer had agreed to come with him. (Castiel had also paid for his ticket.)

The stage was completely dark before the show started. Castiel’s hands were wet with cold sweat, Lucifer had made him stand slightly to the right – so they wouldn’t get caught in the pit – and they were third row, so close and then Dean walked in, starting the show with a guitar solo, and the girls were going crazy, but he’s not who Castiel came to see. When Sam Winchester finally entered the stage the whole crowd seemed to surge forward in a way Castiel hadn’t known was possible. He was pressed against so many bodies, from both sides, against sweaty backs and those behind him into his back, he was lucky he had Lucifer holding him. But he didn’t pay any attention to all that.

All he saw was Sam Winchester, in ripped jeans, black boots, an equally black shirt that he would hopefully take off later on, his gorgeous shoulder-length hair, jaw line sharp enough to cut, and eyes that couldn’t decide on a colour. He looked the crowd over, smiled slightly and Castiel swore he felt his heart stopping at that very moment. Sam thrust the hand holding his mic up in the air and everyone screamed. Castiel was close enough to see every muscle in his arm, including the veins. He swallowed. He could have died at that very moment and it would have been a happy death, but then Sam Winchester started _singing_ and the words would forever be engraved in Castiel’s soul. They were written over his heart with ink made of fire, and the first four lines were the first tattoo he ever got.

 _I am your wrath_  
_I am your guilt_  
_I am your lust_  
_And you know I’m right_

Castiel felt a shudder go through his whole body, and he was painfully, embarrassingly hard. Sam Winchester had this typical rock voice that spoke of too much alcohol, cigarettes and filthy sex backstage.  Of nights spend writing and playing, of thousands of miles between concerts, a life on the road. It was raspy and raw and guttural, but honey-soft when he wanted it to be. He was larger than life when on stage. He was not human, he was a god and Castiel was thrilled in ways he never knew were possible. He knew every single song, every line, and he screamed his lungs out.

Castiel’s first concert was two hours of ecstasy. The crowd kept screaming after they left the stage, and when they didn’t quiet down after a few minutes Sam came back, grinning broadly, his dimples were showing (and Castiel died a little bit) before asking “Do you want more?”

The response was overwhelming, and Sam, merciful god that he was called the others back on stage, while fans were stomping their feet and singing the last song again.

“Okay, I need your attention for a moment. I have an announcement to make”, Sam teased, but the screams died down instantly.

“You’ve been an amazing crowd tonight, so we’ll play one of the songs that will be on the new album-“

After that his words were impossible to understand, the crowd exploded, and if they were loud before, this was beyond any description. Castiel smiled like he had gone to heaven. He had never felt this good in his life – surrounded by sweaty bodies, with more bruises than he cared to count because of the pit they hadn’t quite managed to avoid and all the bigger men, but this was the brightest moment in his life so far. He would witness Sam singing a new song live for the first time.

The beginning was surprisingly quiet, almost eerily so. Just some chords on the guitar, no drums. Castiel stood on tiptoes, Sam was looking out over the crowd, and their eyes met. Later Castiel would question it, telling himself he probably looked at Lucifer behind him or some stranger, but in these moments he could feel electricity cursing through him, the first time his eyes met Sam Winchesters. He didn’t look away. He looked at Castiel, opened this sinful mouth to sing, and used that voice made of silk and honey to spin a net around him that he would never be able to escape.

 _Yeah, you've been alone_  
_I've been gone for far too long_  
_But with all that we've been through_  
_After all this time I'm coming home to you_

Castiel did not breathe while Sam sang. He didn’t move, afraid to rip apart the thin thread that seemed to keep their gazes locked. Then Sam moved on and Castiel started breathing again. He didn’t really hear the rest of the song. He was in his own world now, and he felt like he was hovering above everything. Than Sam started screaming and the drums set in, and he was suddenly back in the arena, someone crashing his elbow into his rips and it hurt but he didn’t mind. He smiled.

He would need to get two tattoos.

 

During the next years he went to as many concerts as possible – his family didn’t ask what to get him for his birthday or christmas anymore, and two years later there was barely any merchandise left Castiel didn’t possess. He also liked other bands, started running around dressed like a punk, crazily in love with his studded leather jacket, dirty old chucks and boots, band shirts and hair styled in a fashion as if he’d just fallen out of bed. His first boyfriend called it sex hair and loved it. Castiel hadn’t met anyone yet who complained about this hairstyle – apart from his parents.

When he turned 18 he could finally get the piercings he’d wanted since he was sixteen: spider bites on the right side of his lower lip and a criss-cross lip ring to go with them, the tip of his right ear and his left nipple. He got his right ear done because that was where Sam had his piercing too.

And finally, finally, those lines he had heard all those years ago. The very first four are on the inside of his left arm, so he could see them whenever he wanted, remember them, trace his finger over them in public and smile like someone stupidly in love usually smiles. But those when Sam looked him in the eyes, those are written over his ribs, left side too, close to his heart. _After all this time I'm coming home to you._ Sam had sung those lines and looked at him, and he had touched something inside Castiel no one else ever managed to. Not his family, not his boyfriends, not the best sex ever made him feel as much as Sam Winchester’s beautiful eyes of no particular colour and his angelic-demonic voice.

The day Castiel finally got to talk to Sam was another concert, another city, he was nineteen by now, and he hadn’t really expected the band to come out after the show and sign stuff – they did occasionally, and once – a night Castiel would never forget – he’d even managed to get an autograph from Benny, but Sam had been tired, still smiling, still trying to be nice after a transcontinental flight and a two hour show but this time was different. This time Sam was well-rested, and his smile was brimming with energy, he was talking to fans, asking for names, taking pictures, signing CDs and booklets and posters and boobs.

He didn’t seem to mind all the girls, although it was known he was gay. When the girls finally left and he made it to Castiel, he smiled shyly up at him, and Sam returned his smile openly, almost relieved.

“I signed enough boobs for my whole life today”, he whispered to Castiel and the guys standing around them, and they all chuckled (one straight guy offered to sign boobs instead of Sam from now on, more chuckling followed), before taking pictures with him, getting their stuff signed, and chatting as if they were friends. Castiel was the only one who didn’t leave after a few minutes, and once he had Sam’s undivided attention, he pulled out a black edding and asked, voice shaking:

“Could you write your favourite quote or lyrics on my arm?” He held out his right arm. “I’d like to get it tattooed.”

That earned him a wide smile with dimples and Castiel could feel his knees go weak. He might also have blushed violently. Fuck. He looked down in shame.

“Hey, look at me.” And Castiel did. Sam looked into his eyes for a long moment, and Cas knew, knew there was something in his eyes, a spark, or a flicker, and then Sam grabbed his arm and started writing. Sam was holding his arm. _Keep calm, Novak._

“I almost told you haw crazily blue your eyes are. But then again, I bet you hear that all the time.”

Sam smiled at him, again, and Castiel’s heart skipped a beat, there was only so much he could take. His blood was rushing in his ears and he completely forgot about everything else. Sam fucking Winchester was flirting with him, and it was real, it was happening.

“Thanks”, he said, completely perplex. He did hear that often. But he’d never heard it from a rock star who could have literally everyone he wanted before.

“How do you like what I wrote?”

“Oh”, Castiel made, completely oblivious to the fact Sam had already finished. His hand writing wasn’t exactly a typical tattoo font, but it was unique and fitted him, some letters bigger than others, slightly leaning forward, and Castiel smiled when he realized which line it was. It was perfect.

_Life wouldn’t be so precious, dear, if there never was an end._

This line was repeated multiple times in the song, but the _dear_ was only sung twice towards the end. The fact that Sam had included it made Castiel’s cheeks grow even hotter, but despite the fact that Sam made him feel like a fifteen-year-old again – he wasn’t, and he could read the signals.

“I love it”, he said softly, leaning a little closer towards Sam who gave him another blinding smile, and he smelled like clean sweat, aftershave, whiskey and weed.

“What’s your name?” Sam Winchester asked him, voice low and honey-sweet, stepping a little closer. They weren’t quite touching, not yet, but Sam was fucking tall and Castiel had to look up at him, before whispering his name back.

“Castiel”, Sam repeated, and it made him shiver to hear this voice say his name, to hear it rolling off that tongue like it was music, like it was art.

Sam’s eyes were hazel now, something predatory in them that caught his eyes, and Castiel must have been staring at him like a lunatic, but if he did, Sam didn’t seem to mind. He simply rested one of his huge hands on the small of Castiel’s back and pulled him closer. Castiel went with it, pliant and more than willing, until he felt the solid muscle of Sam’s chest against his own, and a finger tipping up his chin. Castiel felt like the air was punched out of his lungs when Sam kissed him, and while his right hand grabbed his shirt, his left buried itself in Sam’s hair. It was just a soft as it looked, just as soft as those lips that tasted like sugar and smoke, like something unique that had to be Sam, making Castiel’s head spin and a high-pitched moan escape his throat – not that Sam cared, and in case he did, he must’ve liked it, because he pulled him even closer, the hand that had been tipping up his chin wandering down his side, resting on his hip for a moment before continuing its way to his ass, where Sam splayed it possessively, pressing Castiel against him and ripping another moan out of him.

Out in the open, in front of the band’s trailer, most of the fans gone but the crew still buzzing around. And Castiel would let Sam fuck him right here, would allow him to bend him over and have his way with him. He had forgotten about it all, until Dean Winchester’s voice pierced through the wonderful bubble that had been his dream since he was fifteen.

“Come on Sam, at least get a room! These pictures will be everywhere within a few hours!”

“You’re one to talk”, Sam retorted, after reluctantly breaking the kiss for now. Castiel knew what he meant, while there were pictures of Sam with various guys, there were way more that showed Dean with girls, preferably blond.

“Garth wanted to see you, by the way.” Dean added then, before leaving.

Castiel didn’t care where Dean went, but he knew that Garth was their tour manager, and the moment he saw the apologetic look in Sam’s eyes he knew he would go. Sam gave him another bright, dazzling smile, pulling him in to give him a short kiss, before letting go.

“I gotta check out what he wants. Wait for me?”

There was something mischievous in his eyes, as if they were fifteen and about to make out on a party, dimpled smile stealing Castiel’s wit away. He found himself nodding, words had deserted him.

“Good. Stay right here, pretty. Shouldn’t take long.”

And Sam was gone, leaving Castiel standing in the middle of the grass, the show had been open air and the arena was behind him, the tour bus about twenty metres away. But he just flopped down in the grass right there, looking around at the crew slowly dismantling the stage, bringing all the equipment out there, packing it into those giant black boxes...

Castiel was floating on a cloud of pure exhilaration. The concert had been great and had his adrenaline pumping, and he had talked to Sam Winchester. He looked down at his right arm. Only because his face started hurting did he realize he had been smiling like an idiot all this time. He closed his eyes, humming to himself, looking into the blue sky above him.

He had kissed Sam Winchester. He had smelled better than in his imagination, he had tasted better, and he had kissed better. And Castiel had spent a great amount of time fantasizing about it. Music was drifting over from a group of fans, and he found himself singing along, lying down in the grass, clutching the CD he had let the band sign tight to his chest.

He was caught in utter bliss and complete joy for almost half an hour, then it started to get dark, and he realized it was getting late. Castiel sat up, looking around, but Sam was still gone. Probably still talking with Garth. He just got his water bottle out of his bag and drank a little, he didn’t mind waiting. Hell, he would sit here all night if it meant he would get fucked by Sam Winchester.

More time passed. The sky was dark blue by now, and Castiel got a hoodie out of his back pack because it started to get cold. The stage was almost completely dismantled and all the fans were gone. Concern began to build up, started nagging at his insides. He could see the tour bus from here and knew they hadn’t left yet, but...but what if Garth had something serious to discuss with Sam. After all, this was his job and he did have responsibilities, as much as Castiel liked to imagine being a rock star was all stale cigarette smoke, staying up all night drinking, throwing chairs out of hotel rooms and stumbling on stage drunk. (Not that the Hunters were doing that. They were always in great shape when on stage. Well, mostly.)

Another hour went by and only the skeletons of the stage’s set-up were left, the sky was pitch-black and Castiel was freezing. He swallowed, his stomach rumbled with hunger. He still didn’t want to leave, but anxiety was like acid in his stomach, burning its way through him. Biting his lower lip he started tapping his fingers, to make it all worse his phone battery finally died and not even Candy Crush could distract him anymore.

At least another thirty minutes passed before the whole band emerged from the building, Dean quietly talking to Bobby while Benny seemed lost in thought. Sam’s eyes roamed over the meadow, searching for him. Castiel realized Sam might not be able to see him because the only light was behind Sam’s back, so he got up and the movement caught Sam’s eye.  He motioned for the others to go ahead and then came over, giving Castiel another smile, but there were no dimples and his eyes were exhausted and red.

Disappointment was crushing down on him before Sam started speaking.

“It took longer than I thought, I didn’t expect...sorry.”

Castiel nodded, because what could he do? He slung his back pack over one shoulder and tried a smile, but it was a broken, ugly thing and Sam saw it. Regret stood in his eyes that were almost as dark as the night.

“Come to our next show in New York, okay? It’s in three days.”

He smiled his charming, sexy smile that had the masses at his feet when he was on stage and Castiel could feel it tugging at his heart even now. For the first time he realized how different they were. That Sam wasn’t like him. For Sam, he was nothing but a pretty face he’d like to fuck. For Castiel, Sam was everything. He nodded slightly, his smile a little less pained, a little less jagged.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, almost looking relieved. His posture spoke of a long day and tiredness, and Castiel’s own shoulders were slumped.

“Then see you in New York, Castiel”, Sam said softly, his voice almost a physical caress, making him react to it despite everything else. But he didn’t wait for Castiel’s answer before turning around and walking towards the bus, the rest of the band had to be waiting already.

“See you”, Castiel whispered to himself, the ice inside him outweighing the cold outside. Slowly, he left the venue, his steps heavy as if he was carrying an invisible cross on his shoulders; every breath seemed to hurt because his chest was splayed open and raw where Sam Winchester had ripped it open without knowing, touched his heart without caring about the aftermath. Really, Castiel didn’t find it in him to blame the guy. How could he think that the crazy obsession he’d been nursing for years would mean anything to Sam?

He had enough guys begging for his attention, and he had a schedule to keep up with. Castiel shouldn’t have thought one night with him would make everything happen – Sam wouldn’t just suddenly fall in love with him, make him his Penny Lane and have him tour the world with him.

So often he’d told himself he wasn’t actually in love, just having a major crush, but right now he realized he had been lying. He was completely, irreparably, undeniably in love with Sam Winchester, and he was nothing compared to the man. He tiredly walked to the train station, bought a ticket for the next train home, and sat down on the cold stone floor.

Castiel looked down at his right arm, and the words seemed to be laughing at him.

_Life wouldn’t be so precious, dear, if there never was an end._

 

 

While on the train Castiel called his brother Gabriel, because out of all his friends and even his brothers Gabe was the one most likely to understand. Michael would awkwardly hug him, silently annoyed to be woken up in the middle of the night; Lucifer would be fuming and offering to beat Sam into a bloody pulp for Castiel. Both meant well, but they weren’t what he needed right now. Gabriel on the contrary would grin despite the fact that it was two am, and when he was back in the city he called home, just an hour with the train from Chicago, his brother was standing in front of the door to the small flat Castiel was living in at the moment, and he had a bag with him. He grinned when Castiel came closer, showing him what he had brought: A giant pot of Ben & Jerry’s, Castiel’s favourite taste: Chocolate Fudge Brownie.

Castiel managed a weak smile before hugging Gabriel – more like falling into his arms – and his older brother caught him, patted his back softly and whispered, “It’s okay, Cas. It’s gonna be fine. Let’s go inside.”

So they did, and Castiel sat down on the couch while Gabriel got two spoons so they could share the ice cream. Tears were shining in Castiel’s eyes, but he smiled at Gabriel and took a spoon. They ate in silence for a few minutes, until he grinned and admitted, “This actually helps. I thought it was just a chick-flick thing.”

Gabe shook his head and held a finger up as if to lecture him. “Never doubt my instincts when it comes to comforting heartbroken people. My flatmate in college was helplessly in love with the same guy for the whole duration of her studies.”

Castiel grinned and kept eating while Gabriel took something else out of the bag he had brought – it was a DVD. _Almost Famous._

“Oh no, Gabriel!”, Castiel exclaimed, unwilling to watch this movie now.

“Oh yes, Castiel. This is exactly what you need right now: A cathartic experience. You’ll live through your own emotions by sharing Penny Lane’s. And afterwards you’ll be cured of this guy.” Gabriel sounded serious, but as usual, mischief was gleaming in his eyes.

Cas rolled his eyes, but he loved this movie, and he couldn’t find the strength to argue with Gabriel. So he claimed the Ben & Jerry’s and sat down in the right corner of the couch, clutching it like a treasure. His brother just chuckled and moved to put the DVD in the player. After starting the movie he came back to sit on the couch.

Gabriel had been right, it was a cathartic experience. Castiel laughed and sang along to “Tiny Dancer”, always saying it with Penny when she stated “It’s all happening.” Afterwards he felt way better, he had finished the huge pot of ice cream on his own, and Gabriel was simply there, quiet for once, just a comforting presence.

While the credits rolled, Castiel turned to him and said “I’ve made up my mind.”

Gabriel grinned back. “Good. So you’re not going to New York?”

Cas cleared his throat. Gabriel rolled his eyes before he even started speaking. His brother simply knew him too well. “You’re gonna go. Goddammit, Cas. What did we just watch?”

“The story of a girl being first rejected but then asked to come back. He did ask me to come to New York”, Castiel answered slowly, sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing Gabriel. He held up his hands so he wouldn’t be interrupted, because exasperation was clear as day in Gabriel’s features.

“It’s his last chance”, he clarified, “I wouldn’t forgive myself for not going. In case he doesn’t remember me, fine, that’s it. I’ll still like the music but I’ll stop pining after a man who can have as many groupies as he wants. In case he does remember me, well...”

He smiled a little, and Gabriel let out a weary sigh. “You’re just too good for this world, Cas.”

 Cas smiled at him. “You’re also hopelessly in love with a guy who’s probably an absolute asshole and just wants to fuck you”, Gabriel added.

At that Castiel just rolled his eyes. “It’s my life”, he defended himself.

“Yeah, it is. But I’m the one who gets to pick up the pieces should your Prince Charming disappoint you again.” Gabriel sounded more concerned than annoyed from his position opposite him– cross-legged on the couch just like Cas so they could talk face to face.

“That won’t happen again”, he promised – he could call someone else should New York not work out, or simply get wasted and forget about it. Find himself some other guy – after all, Castiel knew he was far from ugly.

“You can call me. You can always call me”, Gabriel stated, voice sincere. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt, Cas.”

Castiel smiled at him, and Gabe pulled him into a rough hug. He was at home, and he was safe, and he was fine. And he would be fine no matter what happened in New York. If nothing else, it would at least provide closure.

 

 

Castiel was in a strange mood when he arrived in New York. He’d been awake for most of the bus ride, but he felt like he was walking under water. Nothing really touched him. The excitement he normally felt before a concert had been replaced by anxiety, and although he was there early and walked fast to get to the front, he was not one of the first to arrive; neither did he run like he usually would.

Everyone around him was so enthusiastic, chattering loudly with their friends or connecting with people they had just met. Some of them tried to include Castiel, and he answered politely, but they quickly realized he didn’t really want to join their circle. His tension faded once Dean and Benny entered the stage and picked up their guitar and bass respectively – Bobby followed a little later with his drumsticks. Sam was the last to come out, as usual, and was greeted by the most applause. Even after last week Castiel found himself admiring him, enjoying the songs, amazed by his unparalleled voice.

Halfway through the show, they didn’t go into the next song immediately. Instead Dean started to play some chords just to fill the silence and Sam walked to the front of the stage and sat down. The fans were still screaming and reaching out for him, but they knew this was not what usually happened. There was suspense in the air. And Sam didn’t disappoint.

“Guys, this next song is special to me.” The hall became even quieter, everyone was listening, and Sam smiled before continuing.

“Sometimes you meet someone and at first, they look completely normal. You don’t give them the attention they deserve. So, I met someone a few days ago. And I feel like I fucked up.”

Castiel was frozen to his place. His hands were shaking, his eyes fixed on Sam, and the singer’s eyes were wandering over the crowd as if searching for him, and suddenly he wished he had hurried just a little more so Sam could see him. He was talking about him. His heart fluttered in his chest. He had to be talking about him! His breathing was fast and shallow, and he tried to push his way through the guys in front of him, but he didn’t manage. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body, he needed to get to the front of the stage, needed Sam to _see_ that he was here, that he did come, that he didn’t fuck up. A tiny part of him feared he wasn’t talking about him, but he _knew_ , deep down Castiel knew Sam _had to be_ talking about him, and it made his stomach do somersaults.

But Sam didn’t see him, and Castiel was almost sure that for a split-second there was a rueful smile on his face, before he added, in a sincere tone, “What I meant to say is that you should appreciate the people that love you. Be open towards new people.  Don’t be a self-absorbed asshole that thinks he’s cool because he’s famous.” He said the last part mockingly, obviously making fun of himself, to take some of the seriousness out of the situation.

Then he got up, gave some of the fans in front high fives and gave Dean the signal to continue, and Castiel recognized the song immediately – and his chest filled up with warmth. The knowledge that Sam thought about him while singing this...he bit his lower lip, but he was smiling.

 _Dear God, the only thing I ask of you_  
_Is to hold him when I'm not around_  
_When I'm much too far away_  
_We all need that person who can be true to you_  
_But I left him when I found him_  
_And now I wish I'd stayed_

The song was slow and melancholic, yearning for someone lost, but Castiel was in a better mood than he had been since the concert in Chicago. Sam’s eyes were closed while he sang, and Castiel felt like he was wrapped up in the velvet that was his voice. For the first time in his life he couldn’t wait for the concert to be over – he needed to speak to Sam.

Castiel somehow managed to enjoy the rest of the concert – it was if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and when it was over, he hurried to the exit as fast as he could, making his way through the masses even if some people were rather unamused by his elbows in their sides.

Priorities, he thought to himself, and once outside he started running, making his way around the arena to the tour bus parked behind it, where the band usually came out to give some autographs and take pictures. He was one of the first, but he kept out of sight while Sam, Dean, Bobby and Benny were giving autographs, chatting with fans, following their usual after-show-routine. Castiel briefly wondered how he looked – his hair was usually a mess, but a good-looking mess. He knew he would smell like sweat after two hours of jumping and singing and being part of the mosh pit, but then, Sam wouldn’t exactly smell like freshly showered either, so who cares. (Castiel did. But this was not the time to fret about body odour.)

When he approached the crowd had already thinned out, more and more fans getting what they wanted, saying their thanks and leaving slowly. Sam was talking to a blonde guy right now, and Castiel didn’t like the expression on blondie’s face, not one bit. He came a little closer, and sure enough, the guy was hitting on Sam.

“Hey, whoever you met recently...don’t worry too much about not seeing him again. There are a lot of men out there who’d be all too happy to get to know you...”, he smiled, leaned towards Sam and finished his sentence with a suggestive wink, “a little closer. You know what I mean.”

Of course Sam did. A smile was tugging on his lips, and Castiel was happy to see his eyes were still only friendly, none of that predatory look he remembered getting.

“Thanks”, Sam said smoothly, signing the guy’s CD, “but I’m fine. It was nothing serious.”

“We don’t have to be serious either”, blond guy tried again, and that’s when Castiel decided to step in – if not for himself, then at least to avoid dying of second-hand embarrassment. Sam was looking mildly irritated by now, still polite, but obviously not interested.

“Listen, I think he was clear enough, honey. He’s not interested.” Castiel had no idea where he took the honey from, but he was standing next to the guy now, Sam’s eyes were on him and he was smiling, grinning actually, and then, as if realizing that Castiel had heard what he’d said inside, he even looked a little abashed. The guy who’d been hitting on Sam said something decidedly not friendly to Castiel, but he didn’t hear it, because Sam was looking at him and his eyes were so beautifully hazel-brown it made his knees feel weak.

“Castiel...I didn’t think you would be here.”

He smiled. The blonde guy seemed to realize Castiel was the one Sam had been talking about and looked more than a little surprised.

“Well, you said I should come to New York. I didn’t regret it. So far.”

Sam’s smile became broader, and his eyes started gleaming. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

Next to Cas, a female fan whistled at that. Castiel became bright red when he realized there were still others around – how could he have missed that? And they were all...looking at him. They were looking at him and he was freaking out just a little teeny tiny bit until Sam took his hand and somehow heaved him over the fence so he wasn’t between all the fans anymore, but next to Sam, and people started to take pictures. Had probably been taking pictures all the time but now Cas would be in them, next to Sam and- he took a deep breath and swallowed audibly, while Sam was absolutely calm and in control. He was used to this, and after looking at Cas, who was adorably flustered he waved to his fans, put an arm around Castiel’s waist and let him inside the backstage area, and Castiel didn’t know what he should focus on – Sam’s arm around his waist, his hand on his hip bone or the highly inappropriate suggestions fans were screaming about what they should do.

“He has pretty lips, Sam! Just saying!”

“Look at that ass. I’d take him backstage too!”

“The way his hair looks they probably already did it before the show...”

Thankfully, the door closed behind them and then it was just him and Sam, who was still freakishly tall, whose eyes were looking at him as if he was good enough to eat, and Castiel tried a shy smile that he felt bad for, but Sam seemed to like it.

Before he knew what was happening, Sam had him pinned against the door, just an inch of steel separating them from all the fans that would love to know what was going on right now.

“Look at me”, Sam almost growled, and the deep tone of his voice made Castiel shiver, but he obeyed. Sam was leaning against him, Cas could feel the hard muscles through their shirts, could smell sweat and smoke, expensive whiskey and just the faintest hint of cologne.

“Yeah?”, he found himself asking, as if waiting for an explanation, as if waiting for Sam to put all the chaotic thoughts floating through his head into order, but Sam didn’t look like he would do a lot of explaining any time soon.

“Did you hear what they said?” He asked instead, and Castiel nodded, his cheeks still tinted red, but when Sam shoved one of his thighs in between his legs, he opened them readily, pressed himself closer without hesitating. He looked up at Sam, licking his lips. He wanted him, and if how Sam was looking down at him was any indication, the feeling was more than reciprocated.

“I did”, Castiel answered, voice raw as if he hadn’t used it in a long time.  Sam was crowding in on him, pressing him against the door, cold metal at his back, hot skin in front of him. He found himself sliding his hands around Sam’s waist, tugging up his shirt to get to his skin, and Sam immediately reacted by letting one hand travel between them, popping the bottom of Castiel’s jeans open. He was half hard simply because of Sam’s leg against him, and when the pressure increased he started rocking into him, head laid back against the door. Sam mouthed hungrily at his throat, kissing, sucking and biting the soft skin while Castiel dug his nails into his back.

“Your hair does look as if you just got fucked”, Sam honest to god _purred_ against his neck, and it made Castiel shove his hips into him even harder. Why did this man have to sound like that?

Sam chuckled, dark as molten chocolate, and let go of Castiel’s throat, but only to card his fingers through thick black strands, musing to himself, “Did you blow someone before the concert? Wrapped those pretty plush lips around someone’s cock with his hand in your hair while he came down your throat? Are you that kind of guy, Castiel?”

Castiel shook his head – tried to, Sam’s huge hands were still buried in his hair, and he cleared his throat before choking out “No, I-I’m not. It j-just looks like this.”

“Hm”, Sam made, licking along his throat, his teeth tugging at Castiel’s earlobe had him whining, and he could feel Sam’s lips curling into a smile. “I’d apologize for assuming, but you don’t seem to mind”, he whispered into his ear, his lips touching Castiel’s skin, made him bite his lips to keep the embarrassingly high moans and whines in.

Sam was right. Castiel was so hard by now, rocking his hips into Sam’s thigh, his hands had raked the singer’s shirt up high enough so he could clutch his shoulders, and he was shaking. Castiel got what he wanted since he had been fifteen, up against a door, with Sam Winchester’s devilish, sinful voice murmuring all the right things into his ear, his muscular body pressed close, and the constant possibility of someone walking in on them.

Castiel had jacked off while imagining this more times than he could count, and in none of his fantasies had he imagined Sam’s hot erection pressing into his stomach to be quiet that big, and it turned his breathing into pants.

“So pretty, but so filthy”, Sam rasped, worrying Castiel’s earlobe between his teeth, “You’d probably let me fuck you right there, wouldn’t you? With spit for lube and without a condom.”

Castiel found himself moaning wantonly, nodding frantically, because as if Sam’s voice wasn’t enough he had been tugging his jeans down. Now Sam’s huge hands were resting on his ass, beginning to knead the firm globes while he was slowly moving his hips, thrusting his clothed cock into Castiel’s hip. Blood was welling up were Castiel was digging his short nails into Sam’s back, but neither of them realized it, and neither of them cared.

“I want to hear you say it.” Sam demanded, grinning like a wolf ready to jump his prey, and it took Cas a second to realize that he was the prey. He couldn’t find it in him to object. He pressed himself against Sam’s thigh, so hard he was leaking pre-come, his eyes shut while he bit his lower lip, and despite all that the high whine he was trying to hold in was still audible.

He opened his eyes again, rested his head against the door and looked up at Sam, admitting in a whisper: “I’d let you do it. I want you to do it. I want you to fuck me right here just please, _please_ fuck me Sa-“

Castiel didn’t get to finish his sentence when suddenly Sam’s left hand was in his hair, pulling him in forcefully enough to make their teeth clash, to make his scalp hurt just enough to be delicious pleasure-pain while Sam’s tongue was making its way into his mouth, licking along his lips and then further, and Castiel allowed himself to become pliant in his grip, rub against Sam’s thigh even harder, so goddamn close but not quite there. He moaned loudly when Sam bit his lower lip and pulled at it a little, using his piercing to do so.  Sam’s left hand was cupping Castiel’s face almost tenderly until he interrupted the kiss, holding two fingers to Castiel’s lips. He started licking them immediately, using his tongue to get them as wet as possible, sucking hard so his cheeks were hollowed out, knowing that with how Sam felt against his hip now he would need all the prep he could get.

Sam’s eyes were dark and hungry, his pupils huge as he watched Castiel work on his fingers, and it was the first time Castiel heard him moan. Heard him moan deeply and lascivious, a sound so lewd it made him shiver. It was crazy how much Sam’s voice alone turned him on, and he could only imagine the kind of noises he’d make once he started fucking him.

Castiel couldn’t wait any longer, his boxers were wet with pre-come and his hole felt achingly empty, so he allowed Sam’s fingers to plop out of his mouth with an obscene ‘pop’, and he gave Sam his most innocent smile, while his eyes were gleaming, knowing exactly what he was doing to him. Sam gave him an equally hot, but much more deadly smile in return, and Castiel felt as if he’d just challenged someone out of his league.

Sam didn’t waste any time in getting his fingers where they both wanted them, and he gave Cas a lopsided smile, spreading his cheeks to glide between them, the two wet fingers circling his tight hole, and Cas moaned, hips pushing more intently into Sam, and he should’ve known better than to let Sam get his right hand on his dick. He wasn’t even really touching it, his boxers were still right there, but the moment Sam pushed his middle finger into him Castiel stumbled forward, into Sam, into Sam’s hand to be more precise, and he leaned his forehead against Sam’s chest while his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, spreading from between his legs into his stomach, up his spine, leaving a tingling sensation behind, so good and so hot he didn’t care about anything else, about the noises he made, the picture he must make right now.

He came right here, against that fucking door, in his boxers, his cock twitching against Sam’s hand, his ass clutching around the single finger Sam had given him so far and Castiel was a complete and utter mess, his knees threatening to give out, more than half of his weight was leaned against Sam anyway and he didn’t know how to handle this now, until Sam removed his hand from his crotch to tip his chin up – his fingers were fucking wet with come and Castiel’s boxers were soaked at the front, but Sam just smiled at him and licked his fingers clean, slowly, savouring the taste.

“I’d say we find someplace a little cosier and I fuck you properly?”, he offered, and his smile would charm the pants right off Castiel if they wouldn’t already be halfway down his thighs. He nodded immediately, Sam was still hard and the outline of his cock looked just as impressing as it had felt, so no way in hell would Castiel miss this opportunity.

In the end they did find some lube, and Sam used a condom, not that Castiel insisted on it. But Sam was not, in fact, an asshole like Gabriel had warned him about. He didn’t just want Castiel for the night, he asked him for his number, and a few days later Castiel received a text that made him chuckle.

_Do you wanna be my Penny Lane? I promise I won’t trade you for fifty bucks and a case of Heineken._

He grinned while answering.

_Sure._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :)  
> In case you did, Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


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